


The One Thing We Need Most

by JustAddSalt



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Everyone's gay, Fake AH Crew, Homeless Ryan, M/M, Multi, Polyamory, Secret Santa, brief mentions of geoff back when he used to drink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 18:34:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24121447
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAddSalt/pseuds/JustAddSalt
Summary: We're only human after all
Relationships: Jeremy Dooley/Ryan Haywood, Ryan Haywood/Geoff Ramsey, Ryan Haywood/Geoff Ramsey/Michael Jones/Jeremy Dooley, Ryan Haywood/Michael Jones
Comments: 4
Kudos: 55





	The One Thing We Need Most

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writesthrice](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writesthrice/gifts).



> Otherwise known as a series of vignettes depicting how Ryan lost everything and somehow managed to find something more.
> 
> Thank you for the wonderful prompt, Allison!! I had a lot of fun writing this. Hope you enjoy <3

Contact.

It's so simple that no one ever gives it much thought. Like a home or food. When it's there it's commonplace. Only when it's gone is it a necessity.

Ryan heard stories of what happened to people deprived of contact. He was fascinated with it for a while; all the ways the mind would destroy itself if it were missing one or more key components. Lock a man in solitary confinement for too long and they'd forget how to speak. Even longer and they'd forget they were human. It inspired some of Ryan's early work as a mercenary, this psychological play. He never took it quite as far as the stories he read but he always got results.

It wasn't until he lost everything that he started to get an understanding for what that felt like. For a stretch of time he was one of the most feared mercenaries in the field, but that sort of infamy quickly put a target on his head and once the price was high enough people started hunting him. In one "final stand" he torched his mask and left behind everything he had in the wreckage. With the Vagabond's reign ended, Ryan was left to wander the midwest with nothing but the clothes on his back. For years he lived like that, like every other beggar and panhandler he never really cared to notice growing up. He had no home, no food, just temporary shelter and anything to keep him sustained. The only other humans he ever talked to were those like him, but instances like that were few and far between.

And unlike them he had to keep moving. At first it was to keep himself under the radar, but then it just became second nature. Whatever money or resources he could get he'd use to move onto the next place, and the next, until he finally reached the ocean.

It was there, in Los Santos, where he first met Geoff. He was a businessman in a suit with a curly mustache that vaguely resembled that character from Monopoly. From day one, when he saw him drunkenly stumbling out of Misty's with two of his friends, Gavin and Barbara, through the rest of the month Geoff always came by to offer him money or food. By the time the month was out he found him near Dune-Os where he offered him a card instead,

"Here." It was a soft creamy color with thin gold lines embossed into it. "I have a place you can stay if you ever need it. Just come by whenever."

By that point Ryan had all but forgotten how to speak. It made things awkward when he finally decided to visit Geoff's office building in the heart of the city and couldn't quite communicate to the receptionist just who he was looking for. Luckily a woman with short firey hair showed up in time to say, "Sorry about the confusion, Cindy. He's with me."

* * *

Geoff was the one to help him find his voice again.

So he may have fudged the details on his original offer. Instead of lending him a spare bedroom or couch, Geoff had immediately taken him out and fitted him with his own apartment in a complex where he seemed to know the landlord. Ryan wasn't sure what to make of it, but he figured turning it down would be too foolish.

And even though Geoff didn't live there, he still made every attempt to visit Ryan over the course of the next year. He brought over some of his favorite video games and puzzles and helped him remember how to cook when he caught Ryan attempting to start his own fire over using the stove. Most of their conversations were largely one-sided, but Geoff didn't seem to mind. He seemed to understand Ryan's facial expressions and wide range of grunts when words would fail him.

In fact, their first proper conversation had been about,

"Bubblegum."

Ryan glanced at him over his bowl of cereal. They'd been sitting around a fold up dining table watching Jeopardy when Geoff started to zone out.

"Do you think the first flavor of gum was actually bubblegum?" Geoff continued when Ryan put his spoon down and made a face at the table.

"No, wasn't it like... Licorice or something?" His voice was smaller and felt somewhat foreign, but he got the words out.

He knew he did because Geoff looked a bit shocked for a moment. Instead of making a big deal of it, however, Geoff laughed, "Eugh, licorice? Why the fuck would you make licorice flavored gum?"

"I don't know." Ryan shrugged. "I just vaguely remember someone telling me that a long time ago. I think it was made in like uh... In the mid to late eighteen hundreds I wanna say?"

"No way! Licorice..." Geoff was already pulling out his phone to investigate. "Huh, no shit. Made in 1871." He skimmed through the passage a bit. "That is _so_ weird..."

After that it was like flicking a switch. Suddenly Ryan could indulge Geoff's wandering thoughts, asking questions of his own and watching the way it would lead him down another train of thought. They could criticize bad TV together, joke about politics, and even argue over the dumbest things like the frivolity of Xbox achievements. It helped Ryan open up to Geoff and vice versa until they were soon sharing everything about themselves. Past accomplishments, favorite memories.

And, yes, even crime involvement. Turns out Geoff had been robbing banks in Texas with his longtime friend Jack, and working with a circle of crooked investors for quite some time. After some years of careful planning he even decided to form a gang, and once he found out the truth about Ryan he was already offering him the job.

* * *

"Before we move onto the more boring and official business of the day I'd like to address the skeleton in the room." Geoff paused for laughter even though there was none. "You know him, you've had nightmares about him. Lady and gents, I give you, _The Vagabond himself!"_

Ryan could never figure out how Geoff had gotten him to say yes, but after some well needed grooming and a fresh coat of hair dye, the Vagabond was resurrected. At the head of the conference table in a slick new jacket and mask, he watched Geoff's crew gauging their reaction.

They are all silent. Horribly so. It stifled the air around him and made him acutely aware of the paint on under his mask and how itchy his nose had suddenly become. They all just stared at him with varying levels of shock and complete apathy.

The silence was broken with the popping of gum.

"Cool." The kid in the purple hoodie said in a very bland tone. What was his name again? Ray? "Where do you keep your scythe?"

A beat. This time everyone turned to look at Ray. Ryan raised a brow.

"Get it? Because he looks like the grim re--"

"Yeah we get it, dumbass." Michael punctuated with a jab to Ray's arm.

And just like that the tension eased out of the room. Geoff groaned while the lads began to laugh at Ray who tried to defend his dad quality humor. Even Jack, who'd been watching silently from the back of the room, finally burst out into a fit of giggles alongside the others. Ryan's shoulders relaxed.

"Ha ha, very funny, Ray." Geoff talked above them. "Don't forget to run home and tell mommy your amazing joke after the briefing."

"Why don't you do it for me?"

Now Michael was snickering. "Wow, sick self burn, idiot."

"I know right?"

* * *

The briefing after was business as usual. Geoff went over all the steps towards a heist he was planning and gave out crew assignments. He addressed some of them by team names like X-Ray and Vav then himself and Jack as Team OG, but then he handed off the last task to him and,

"--Michael, your job will be a simple reconnaissance one. I need y'all to swing by the trade off point tomorrow and search the surrounding businesses for security cameras. Act like tourists, get pictures, you know the drill."

"Boooring." Had been Michael's only complaint, but when they were finally dismissed he'd given Ryan a pat on the shoulder and said, "See ya tomorrow, partner."

* * *

Michael was the first to touch him. At least in a consistent manner and not just for necessity. Geoff had always been mindful of Ryan's space, but Michael didn't seem to care for anyone's personal space. "It's a New Jersey thing, I think" Was what Geoff had said to reassure him when Michael's shoves and side punches always seemed to startle him. But strangely enough, Ryan didn't mind it.

In fact, he came to enjoy it. Maybe not being punched randomly so much as just appreciating Michael's more physical way of communication. Being thrown into a new group of people, Ryan found out, made it impossible for him to speak all over again. Michael never seemed to care. He was loud, sure, but he'd always talk with more than just his mouth so every nudge or look meant something. He understood Ryan and never forced him to try and speak.

It became a language all their own. A couple years past and Ryan was eventually able to talk to his teammates, but with Michael their relationship was more well defined by the looks they would share and not the things they would say. Michael had his own troubles expressing himself, coming from a broken home and being forced to save face early on. Ryan understood. He knew just how intensely Michael cared under the surface.

He found out during a heist. Everything had gone wrong and half of the team was pinned. Ryan knew he only had the one option, so after he carried Michael to a safe place where he could nurse the wound in his leg, he grabbed his minigun from the escape vehicle and turned back towards the chaos that had ensued. But Michael grabbed him by his jacket and turned him back around. He bit back his agony, "Ryan, wait--" then grabbed him on either side of his face. He pressed their foreheads together and through the holes of his mask Ryan could see a literal fire reflected on Michael's eyes and in them when he hissed, "Give them hell for me."

Later that night, when everyone had returned home safe, and Ryan and Geoff were with Michael in the hospital, there were no words to be said. Only faint touches and firmer holds, and a few dozen kisses that promised everything was alright.

* * *

Jeremy was the one to get Ryan to finally accept himself. Himself and the Vagabond and everything that represented.

When Jeremy first joined Ryan didn't know what to expect. The vibrant shades of purple, orange, and yellow beside a raucous personality made Ryan fear for a permanent migraine but there was plenty more to Jeremy that they all came to love over time. But there was one thing that stuck with Ryan the most.

One day during a stakeout, he offered something weirdly profound that caused Ryan to rethink... Well damn near his entire existence. They were crammed into a Prius eating burritos and shooting questions back and forth to pass the time. After a long explanation of polyamory and it's many misconceptions, Ryan turned it back to Jeremy.

"Okay that's enough of that. Now it's my turn."

"Oh boy."

"If you insist you're not Rimmy Tim," Ryan said after polishing off his soda. "and Rimmy Tim isn't you, then who the hell is he exactly?"

"Ah, shit, I should've seen that one coming." Jeremy chuckled. "Well, lemme ask you this; Who's the Vagabond?"

_Who's the Vagabond?_ Ryan stared at him. In all his years operating under that same shell and he'd never thought to ask well, who is he? He was a mask. He was something Ryan could slip into whenever the work got dirty. A cold, strategic, sort of safety blanket that wasn't scared of death or whatever fate worse might come as recompense for his actions. He was the face paint and the costume, and not really him either now that he really thought about it. Most times he could come home, take it all off, and be Ryan again, but there were times when it'd linger. Like the ashy taste of gunpowder or the feeling of metal on his teeth. Ryan wasn't the Vagabond. The Vagabond was a blockade.

"He's a gimmick!"

"I'm sorry..." Ryan blinked a few times, "He's a _what_?"

"You know? A gimmick! Like in wrestling." Jeremy tapped his shoulder with his fist but Ryan only continued to stare.

"You've lost me..."

"Here, see, in wrestling everyone's got this persona called a gimmick. You've got the good guys, babyfaces, and the bad guys, which are called heels. I'll get into that more later, but basically it's this whole character you come up with to get the audience to either love you or despise you."

Ryan nodded along, "Soo... Like theatre?"

"Exactly like theatre!" Jeremy lit up. "So I'm not really the legendary Rimmy Tim as much as I'm the actor playing him." He surmised then took another bite off his burrito. With his mouth still full he added, "It's all in good fun y'know?"

Ryan spent an embarrassing amount of time thinking about what Jeremy said after that mission. It forced him to rethink his entire approach to the Vagabond and what he was using it for. With Jeremy's help, however, he rebuilt the masked mercenary into something different, something fun. A ruthless villain at the head of Los Santos' criminal underworld. They were no longer a hollow mask but a character thriving off of pure chaos itself. Together the Vagabond and Rimmy Tim were the true kings of the city.

By Gavin's definition, he'd become purely unhinged.

* * *

It was at the altar he recounted all of these instances before the three people in his life that brought him back from nothing.

"To think that twelve years ago I wouldn't have been able to say this to anyone." Ryan spoke his vows without a note card or ink in the palm of his hand. He looked between the three of them and their eyes all shiny with tears, though Geoff was fully bawling and blowing his nose into his handkerchief. Michael rubbed his back and Jeremy was positively beaming. Ryan couldn't stop smiling himself. "Twelve years ago I was just a weird hobo with nothing much left to live for but now I have three good reasons to keep growing, and to keep improving, until I can finally retire a weird old man." All three of them laughed and sniffled and wiped their tears. "For that I'm forever grateful. I never thought I'd find myself here, but I wouldn't have it any other way."

There was an applause. All the friends and family they'd accumulated over the years smiled alongside them with tears in their eyes just the same.

"Well," Jeremy squeezed Ryan's hand, "I think you have us beat." His comment sent Geoff, and everyone else, to fits of laughter.

"Oh my god, _enough_!" Michael gave him a playful shove. "When do we get to kiss and run off to Tahiti?"

Fiona piped up from her spot in front of them. "What's wrong, Michael? I was kind of hoping for an encore."

Michael jabbed a finger at her, "You shut the fuck up and marry us before toss you in the ocean." Threats aside his grin was wide and infectious even as he batted Gavin away who'd been sobbing just as much as Geoff for his ‘best boi.’

"Alright alright," Fiona relented, "then by all means, I pronounce y'all husbands and my dads forever!"

In a sea of cheering, all three of them exchanged kisses. Jeremy lept into Ryan's arms while Michael squished Geoff's tearful face to kiss him at the same time. Then Ryan kissed Geoff and Michael, Jeremy following along. They were married there on the beach, just as the sun was beginning to set. The sun casting diamonds along the waves on it's way below the horizon. 

Contact. So simple no one ever thinks about its variations or how amazing it can feel to be tangled up in those you love and trust wholeheartedly. Ryan had gone so many years without it, but he knew then that he'd never take it for granted. He made a promise to them and himself that he'd spend the rest of his years always connected, in some small way, to the men he loved most. To the men that made him feel truly human again.


End file.
